Chapter Eighteen – Husband & Wife
Brushing out her hair in her new bedchamber in her new home, Beth stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes distant as she recalled the wedding breakfast only a few hours ago. While her husband’s uncle and cousin had not bothered to hide their disapproval, his aunt had mostly been amicable. However, she had refrained from speaking too kindly to Beth in her husband’s presence. Only once the men had retreated to the study had her husband’s aunt become more animated. In retrospect, her behaviour reminded Beth of her father’s wife, the Countess of Radcliffe.
Did women generally suffer marriages where they feared to voice their thoughts? Where they were merely a reflection of their husband’s opinions?
A frown drew down Beth’s brows, and she shook her heard. No matter what, she would never bow her head to anyone…not even to her husband. And yet, she could not imagine that Tristan would demand that of her, at least not the Tristan she had met the night at the ball.
Remembering his uncle’s disapproving frown as well as the look of guilt in her husband’s eyes, Beth wondered what his uncle’s influence would do to their marriage. Would her husband always abide by his uncle’s word, afraid to anger him, the same way her half-sister cowered before their father?
Beth sighed.
The only one who had looked at her with mere curiosity as well as the resemblance of an open mind, had been her husband’s best friend. Although his eyes had been narrowed throughout the day, Beth attributed that to a general watchfulness as his face had held neither disapproval nor disappointment. His gaze had shifted from her to Tristan again and again, calculating, apprising, but not judging. Only when he had occasionally turned to Mr. Turner, had a hint of discontent shone in his dark eyes.
From her – granted−limited experience, Beth judged him to be a good man, and she was glad that her husband had such an observant friend by his side. Maybe he could be of assistance in extracting her husband from his uncle’s influence.
Pushing all thoughts of her husband’s disapproving family aside, Beth felt a slight tremor run through her as she reminded herself that this was her wedding night. Would her husband seek her out? Or would he stay away, nurturing his wounded pride alone?
Although Beth disliked his childish reaction, she could at least somewhat understand its origin now that she had met his family. However, she was determined to see if she could rediscover the man she had met at the ball under the layers of guilt and resentment that currently weighed him down. For whenever her own heart was not distracted or annoyed by the scowl on her husband’s face, it occasionally danced through her chest, sending shivers down her spine at the thought of being in his arms.
Their dance that night had been wonderful, and Beth longed to know what it would be like to feel his skin against her own without a barrier of clothing in-between.
A knock sounded on the door, tearing her from her musings and sending her heart into overdrive. “Come in,” she called, surprised to find herself a bit breathless. Hopefully, this would prove to be an exciting night and not another disappointment!
Opening the door, her husband stepped across the threshold, his eyes hard as they met hers. Still dressed in breeches and shirt, he walked toward her, his gaze fixed on her face. “I came to inform you that you’re to travel to Hampton Hall in two days’ time and stay there for the remainder of the season,” he grumbled, already taking a step back toward the door. “I suggest you prepare yourself accordingly. I’ll have a maid,” his eyes narrowed at the word, “sent up first thing in the morning to assist you with packing.”
Deeply disappointed, Beth sighed. Her eyes, however, narrowed at the feigned harshness he forced on his words. Did he truly despise her for her lie? Or was it merely his uncle’s influence?
“I’m afraid I cannot,” Beth replied before he had even reached the door. “I came to London for a reason, and I shall not leave until−”
“But you’ve succeeded!” he snapped, coming toward her in long strides, his eyes drilling into hers, pain resting in their depth more than anger. “You’ve achieved your goal. I married you. However, I refuse to share my life with you.”
Holding his gaze, Beth drew in a deep breath, finally understanding the anger that coursed through his veins. “Do you remember what I said to you at the ball?”
He gritted his teeth. “You said a lot of things. None of which were true as I know now.”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” Beth counselled, hoping that she would find a way through the barrier he had erected around himself. “I am not the enemy. I did not set out to hurt you, to trap you into marriage. This came as quite a shock to me as well. However, I freely admit that I do not mind being married to you, and that has nothing to do with your title and everything with the man you are.”
At her words, he swallowed, and his eyes softened as the tension in his shoulders dissipated.
Encouraged, Beth took a step closer, her gaze holding his. “That night, I told you that you had a kind soul, that you seemed to be looking for something honest, but that a part of you feared that you would never find it.”
Averting his eyes, her husband took a step back.
“Tristan,” Beth whispered, closing the distance between them. “Is that why you resent me so? Not because I allowed you to believe I was of your station but because you fear to have lost the chance for the one thing you’ve always wanted: finding someone to love?” As she spoke, Beth could see the effects of her words on his face and knew them to be true as though he had confirmed them.
“None of that matters now,” he said, his head still bowed, a look of defeat in his eyes as he turned toward the door.
“Of course, it does.” Before he could leave, Beth reached out and caught him by the arm, determinedly pulling him back.
Surprised, he stared at her, his eyes searching her face.
“Why did you follow me?” she asked, a slow smile curling up her lips as her heart hammered in her chest. Never had she felt so daring, and yet, she knew that she would lose him if she didn’t fight for him now. How had this happened? A week ago, she had not even known him, and now, the thought of not seeing him every day upset her deeply.
He drew in a slow breath, and his eyes dropped from hers. “I already told you.”
Smiling, Beth looked up into his face, searching for the truth, as she ran her hand down his arm. “You merely said that it was obvious.”
Gritting his teeth, he exhaled audibly, a touch of embarrassment colouring his cheeks, and yet, his arm under her hand trembled with the emotions he so desperately tried to hide.
“You liked me that night at the ball when we first met, didn’t you? I know it to be true because I felt it,” she whispered, drawing in a deep breath when his eyes returned to hers, slightly narrowed as though he could not believe his ears. “I liked you as well, and I believe you felt that too.” Holding his gaze, she leant forward. “I still do.”
Again, he swallowed. “You’re fairly outspoken for a woman,” he observed, and yet, his tone held no disapproval.
Beth smiled. “My mother often chided me for being too outspoken,” she whispered, ignoring the hitch that came to her voice at the thought of her mother. “She always said, ‘Beth, one of these days, you’ll meet someone with an even looser tongue than yours and then you won’t know what to say.’” She shrugged. “Well, so far that hasn’t happened. And besides, wasn’t that one of the reasons why you liked me? Because I speak what is on my mind?”
“It was,” he admitted, a wistful look coming to his eyes before they narrowed and once more searched her face. “What are you thinking now?”
“Honestly?” Beth asked, a mischievous grin curling up her lips. “I’m wondering what it would feel like if you kissed me.” His eyes widened, and yet, the ghost of a smile danced over his face. “Despite your undeniably rude behaviour towards me today,” she teased before her tone grew more serious, more emotional, “I still feel something when you’re near me.”
For a long moment, he simply stood before her, his eyes holding hers, and Beth almost died of impatience. As her heart thumped in her chest, her fingers itched with the need to pull him even closer and satisfy her curiosity.
But then he dropped his gaze and took a step back.